“No,” said Florence Lloyd.

XVIII

In Mr. Goodrich’s office

As was my duty I went next to the district attorney’s office to tell him about Mrs. Cunningham and the gold bag, and to find out from him anything I could concerning Gregory Hall.  I found Mr. Porter calling there, and both he and Mr. Goodrich welcomed me as a possible bringer of fresh news.  When I said that I did know of new developments, Mr. Porter half rose from his chair.

“I dare say I’ve no business here,” he said; “but you know the deep interest I take in this whole matter.  Joseph Crawford was my lifelong friend and near neighbor, and if I can be in any way instrumental in freeing Florence from this web of suspicion—­”

I turned on him angrily, and interrupted him by saying

“Excuse me, Mr. Porter; no one has as yet voiced a suspicion against Miss Lloyd.  For you to put such a thought into words, is starting a mine of trouble.”

The older man looked at me indulgently, and I think his shrewd perceptions told him at once that I was more interested in Miss Lloyd than a mere detective need be.

“You are right,” he said; “but I considered this a confidential session.”

“It is,” broke in Mr. Goodrich, “and if you will stay, Mr. Porter, I shall be glad to have you listen to whatever Mr. Burroughs has to tell us, and then give us the benefit of your advice.”

I practically echoed the district attorney’s words, for I knew Lemuel Porter to be a clear-headed and well-balanced business man, and his opinions well worth having.

So it was to two very interested hearers that I related first the story of Florence’s coming downstairs at eleven o’clock on the fatal night, for a final endeavor to gain her uncle’s consent to her betrothal.

“Then it was her bag!” exclaimed Mr. Porter.  “I thought so all the time.”

I said nothing at the moment and listened for Mr. Goodrich’s comment.

“To my mind,” said the district attorney slowly, “this story, told now by Miss Lloyd, is in her favor.  If the girl were guilty, or had any guilty knowledge of the crime, she would not have told of this matter at all.  It was not forced from her; she told it voluntarily, and I, for one, believe it.”

“She told it,” said I, “because she wished to take the responsibility of the fallen rose petals upon herself.  Since we are speaking plainly, I may assure you, gentlemen, that she told of her later visit to the office because I hinted to her that the yellow leaves might implicate Gregory Hall.”

“Then,” said Mr. Goodrich triumphantly, “she herself suspects Mr. Hall, which proves that she is innocent.”

“It doesn’t prove her innocent of collusion,” observed Mr. Porter.

“Nor does it prove that she suspects Mr. Hall,” I added.  “It merely shows that she fears others may suspect him.”